There was nothing but darkness, and the darkness was cold. A cold that seemed to penetrate to his very core. He hung alone in the utter black for a long time. He had no sense of being, no feeling of arms or legs or even eyes. He just was; the essence of himself and nothing more, formless in the darkness. Then he saw, or sensed, a hint of light, like the very beginning of sunrise. The light grew, until he could see a shining point, off in the distance. The light fell on him, even though he had no body for it to fall on, and it was warm, though he had no skin to feel it with. As the light and warmth grew, he realized that they weren't moving closer to him, he was being drawn closer to them. He resisted, turning towards the darkness with grin determination. The light pulled enticingly, beckoning with peace, and happiness. He suddenly could remember all the good, joyful moments of his life. Being with his family before his father had died. The accomplishments of his youth. The brief happiness he'd found in his first love. All those and more came flooding back to him, and the light promised a life of many more such moments. Still he kept his back to the light, and clung stubbornly to the dark. Heaven might call all it wished, he had a purpose. He wasn't ready to go yet. When I've lived out my life, when I've finished my destiny, then I'll go, he told the light, but not yet. And then slowly the light withdrew, shrinking to a pinprick and then vanishing utterly, leaving him alone again in the cold dark.

End Part 1